Mimicry
by Serpens Caputt
Summary: Light goes to surprising extents in order to beat his greatest rival... and then shit goes down.


**Something funny to brighten your day. I don't even know how I thought this up...**

**I do not own Death Note**

* * *

With his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Light leaned forward, the tip of his nose nearly pressing against the glass of the computer screen.

All the recent criminal deaths were logged on this page, every snippet of information that was deemed useful captured among the pixels. Light sifted through it, trying to sort Kira's victims from those who had died free from his grasp.

Light sighed, leaning back in his chair. The pattern usually came so easily to him.

But this time, the information was proving stubborn. These deaths were sprinkled randomly through the past weeks, heralding to no schedule whatsoever. Giving no clue to the identity of Kira.

He placed his chin upon one fist, closing his eyes. _There must be a pattern_, he thought calmly. There had to be. If the investigative team could establish a relationship between all of the deaths, they would be one step closer to finding the identity of the third Kira.

It was nightfall. Light was alone in the room, seated before a computer which saturated him in a ghostly glow. The other men were probably on their way home, Light thought. He vaguely remembered Ryuuzaki announcing that he was going to pick up some specialty sweet rolls from the bakery a few blocks away. Watari had most likely accompanied him.

Light was alone.

Slamming one fist on the table, he cursed under his breath. Ryuuzaki would have probably made the connections by now. He could see him crouched before the computer screen, haunted eyes wide and satisfied as he stated his deductions in that unruffled manner of his. All while delicately stirring a cup of tea brimming with sugar cubes.

How did he always do it?

How were his skills of reason always so finely-tuned?

Light couldn't let Ryuuzaki beat him.

No.

He would not allow it.

"If I am to beat Ryuuzaki to the solution, then I have to use his skills of reasoning before he does," Light said slowly, sorting his thoughts aloud. "And the only way to do that is to somehow _simulate conditions_ where his reasoning can occur."

He mulled over his words, checking all of his options.

Light spoke firmly.

"I have no other choice."

* * *

A few minutes later, Light entered the room. He sported a white long-sleeved shirt and had donned a pair of pants that looked suspiciously like Ryuuzaki's. His hair was ruffled, hanging around his face in a somewhat unsightly manner. Light flinched. The floor was quite cold against the soles of his bare feet.

"This is ridiculous," Light grumbled, but made his way towards the computer anyway.

He closed his eyes, trying to recall Ryuuzaki's distinctive stance.

Light gingerly climbed upon the chair, tucking in his knees.

"This isn't right," he mused.

Light tried pitching his weight forward, only to end up toppling out of the chair. He found himself spread-eagled over the freezing floor.

"Damn it," he hissed, staring up at the ceiling.

"_Light-kun_! Are you all right?"

Matsuda was kneeling next to Light, peering worriedly into his face.

"What happened?" He frowned. "And…why are you in Ryuuzaki's clothes?"

Light sat up. "I fell off the chair," he said evenly, ignoring the second question.

Matsuda was staring at him, obviously confused. "How did you fall off the…?"

"Never mind," Light waved him off. He turned away. "I still have to look through all of these files. Why aren't you home?"

"Oh. Okay." Matsuda tilted his head. He swiped a ring of keys off a table, smiling sheepishly. "I forgot my keys."

Light nodded, lowering himself carefully into the chair.

"Well…I guess I'll leave then." Matsuda's face grew hopeful. "Unless…there's anything I can help with…?"

"That's all right," Light turned away from him. "I'm all right."

"Okay." Matsuda was crestfallen. He turned towards the door. "Well, goodnight, Light-kun."

Matsuda was halfway out the door when Light suddenly called out, "Wait."

Light faced him, his eyes hidden beneath his hair. He spoke solemnly.

"Actually, there is something…"

"Really?" Matsuda said eagerly. "What is it?"

Light fixed him with a grave stare.

"…How does Ryuuzaki sit?"

* * *

Mogi Kanzo took quietly made his way down the gloomy corridor, arms full of documents, keys perched upon it all. He had forgotten an important file next to the computer. Shaking his head, Mogi entered the room.

He instantly dropped everything he was holding. He stared.

Light and Matsuda stared back at him.

It was silent for several moments. Mogi coughed.

"What are you…what are you guys doing?" He raised his eyebrows. "And why are you both dressed like Ryuuzaki?"

"Mogi-san!" Matsuda called cheerfully. His hair was wild, reminiscent of Ryuuzaki's unique hairstyle. Mogi noted that Matsuda did in fact resemble Ryuuzaki to a degree. It was somewhat unsettling. "Do _you_ remember how Ryuuzaki sits?"

"Do I…_what_?"

"How L sits, Mogi," Light said impatiently. "Do you know how he does it?"

Light was precariously perched on the chair, gripping the armrests tightly. If he let go, he would surely find himself on the floor again.

"Is this it?"

Matsuda frowned. "Your back is too rigid, Light-kun. Try slumping forward some more."

Light shook his head. "I can't anymore. If I try, I'll fall out of the chair."

"It's harder than it looks," Matsuda remarked. "No wonder Ryuuzaki-san is so talented."

"I'm better," Light said darkly, under his breath.

"What did you say, Light-kun?"

He smiled. "Nothing."

Mogi furrowed his eyebrows, thinking hard.

"Actually," he said suddenly, "I think I _do_ know how he sits."

Light and Matsuda both looked at him expectantly.

"Really?" the latter exclaimed. "Show us, show us!"

"Well…actually, I don't think that's such a good idea…"

Light stared at him, unimpressed.

"You can't do it, can you?"

"Yes, I can," Mogi insisted.

"Prove it."

He let out sigh and reluctantly sat on the ground, holding his knees. "There," Mogi said, satisfied.

"No, no, no," Matsuda protested, shaking his head. "You're doing it all wrong!"

"How am I doing it wrong?" Mogi said, exasperated. "I've seen Ryuuzaki hundreds of times—I know how he sits."

Matsuda fervently shook his head.

"You're hunched over too much," he said matter-of-factly.

"You're so smug, aren't you?" Mogi griped. "Well, why don't _you _demonstrate how Ryuuzaki sits?"

"Fine," Matsuda said. "I will."

He curled up in a ball, tightly tucking his chin into his knees.

"See?" Matsuda said proudly. "I've done it before both of you!"

"That's the fetal position, dammit," growled Mogi.

"It's _comfy_."

"Comfy my ass."

"You're hurtful!"

"Shut up, Matsuda."

Light got up. "This isn't working. I'll just have to ask Ryuuzaki about the data later." His eyes hardened. "_He'll_ figure it out, with his goddamn fetal position nonsense…"

"No!" Matsuda sprang forward. "We've almost got it!" He looked at Mogi for support. "You just have to…practice! Right, Mogi-san?"

"Uh…yeah," Mogi said. "What he said."

"Practice," Light repeated. "Practice _crouching_."

Matsuda nodded sincerely.

"Fine," Light sighed, sitting back in the chair. He put up his knees. "This better be worth it."

* * *

L shuffled down the hallway, carefully licking a towering ice cream cone, Watari shadowing his trail. In his arms, Watari held a large paper bag full of sweet rolls and other snacks.

"I hear voices coming from the computer room," L said between slurps. "They must have found something."

He veered left and crossed the threshold.

* * *

Light, Matsuda, and Mogi looked up, startled, as Ryuuzaki and Watari entered the room.

"I see," Ryuuzaki said thoughtfully. "Cosplay?" He caught a dribble of ice cream before it dripped to the floor. "No…no, that's not it…"

The three men were all crouched in chairs that were positioned around a single, glowing computer. They were each dressed in Ryuuzaki's clothing, their feet bare and knees tucked into their chests. Their eyes were wide and guilty, save for Light, who instantly assumed a stoic expression.

Ryuuzaki stared at them unblinkingly, nibbling on the ice cream cone.

"I'm flattered," Ryuuzaki said finally. "But Light-kun, I'm afraid that my methods don't usually work for anyone other than myself."

Light slowly stood up, impassive.

"I'm…going to change," he said, voice faltering slightly. With that, Light briskly walked out of the room, trying to salvage what was left of his dignity.

Mogi gave a short nod, then followed Light out.

"Well, actually…I kind of like this," Matsuda announced, spinning around in the chair. "I've never felt so free!"

Ryuuzaki sat in one of the abandoned chairs, crouching in his distinctive stance. He swallowed the last remaining bit of his ice cream cone with flourish.

"Ah," he said. Slightly nervous, Ryuuzaki noted that Matsuda did in fact resemble him quite a bit.

"Is there something wrong, Ryuuzaki-san?" asked Matsuda, his eyes wide and innocent.

"I think you should go change," he answered. "Right...now."

* * *

**Please review and whatnot... I love you all**!


End file.
